


Might As Well've Cheated

by WincestSounds (Cammerel)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Clawing, Incest, M/M, Nipples, Porn with Pain, RP, Samulet, Straight Winchesters, Top!Sam, Wincest - Freeform, jealous!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 09:49:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/WincestSounds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean may have just fucked everything up for the both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Might As Well've Cheated

**Author's Note:**

> Season: Anytime between 1-3.

There weren’t often times when Dean was so ashamed of his own actions that he decided to ignore them entirely. Most of the time, he liked to think, he had a good handle on himself. He wasn’t the ‘heat of a moment’ kind of guy, not when it came to the things that mattered the most. Letting himself get lost in something he **really** wanted to do was a foreign thing to him.

Which is why he was so completely fucking shocked with what he was doing. Though he’d wanted to for a long, long time, he’d never acted upon it because he didn’t want to take the risk, he didn’t want to cross that line, that bridge, and be unable to go back.

He couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol, since neither of them had had any, and he could recount every single step, the arguing, the fight. Sam’s fist against his jaw and kneeing Dean in the stomach, ripping his jacket off as Dean bent over. The older Winchester had gotten nasty after that, saying things he’d regret later, about Sam leaving them, and being selfish, and how his brother had left him - that he was ungrateful for Dean’s own sacrifices.

That was when it changed, when Sam started to leave out of blind rage, and Dean stopped him, and he was shoved against the wall, Sam practically growling at him and - though Dean knew he was angry - he saw the tears on his younger brother’s cheeks. And then Dean had kissed Sam. There was no way to confuse who had done what and what had happened, both of them knew it was Dean, because Sam didn’t respond really, not even then.

Shocked, he’d turned away, tried to escape himself, and been stopped, and they grappled for a moment, trying to figure out what the fuck was happening before Dean was kissing Sam again and they were fighting one another’s clothes, ripping buttons, clawing skin. It was a very, **very** ‘heat of the moment’ kind of thing, rough, almost violent, painful, but so fucking _good_. And Dean could remember every second of their labored breaths, Sam fisting his short hair and holding him down, bent over the bed, he could even feel the sharp bite of the table, when they’d first started there.

And he’d never regretted anything more than he regretted kissing Sam that night. And how he’d climbed out of his brother’s bed, showered and dressed, and pretended like nothing had happened the next morning. He was thankful for Sam, that the younger Winchester let him have it.

Sleeping with his brother was a mistake, and after three months, he found himself trying to make sure everything was still okay. Going to a bar, as usual, playing pool and beating other men at poker, joining Sam for a few shots before moving over to the thin little brunette that’d been giving him the eye all night. He hooked his arm around her waist and drew her in, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and brushing their noses together, whispering against her lips before kissing them. He gave a nod to Sam and left the bar with her.

* * *

Wanting his brother in more than a platonic way wasn't really something Sam knew he wanted until three months ago and, since it had happened, it was all he could think about - something he was determined to not let go of.

The fight they had that night led to a life changing realization for the younger Winchester, ironically it seemed to do the complete opposite for Dean; the older man had become distant and absolutely refused to talk about it, no matter the circumstances. So naturally, Sam stopped pushing the issue, thinking Dean would come around when he was ready.

And, as he stood next to the bar, watching his brother flirt and touch some woman - the way **he** wanted to touch Dean - he had a feeling that maybe he shouldn't have dropped it.

Sam clenched his jaw and nodded back to Dean, seething and feeling a surge of jealousy shoot through him. But it wasn't like he could do anything, though, so he sat helplessly and watched as the older Winchester left with a nameless brunette.

* * *

Dean didn’t think anything of it as he drove her back to the motel a couple blocks distance from the bar, spreading her out on the bed sheets and almost sighing in satisfaction as he familiarized himself with her body. Maybe now, him and his brother could get back to the way they were, no harm, no foul, and Dean wouldn’t have to worry about having possibly fucked things up with his brother.

When he was with her, it was nothing like with Sam, softer, slower, careful - restrained. And not once did he taste his own blood on his tongue; just her, and that floral feminine perfume that she wore. Nothing like with Sam, and maybe, after a few women like this one, being fucked by his brother would be a distant memory.

* * *

Sam stayed at the bar for a while longer, drinking until the hurt of watching Dean leave with a woman dulled, throwing back shot after shot, knowing he'd regret it later. Thankfully, the motel wasn't a long walk from the bar.

When last call came around two AM, he downed a few more shots before stumbling away from the bar and out into the cold air. Every step on his way back led to a stumble, hands tucked in his pockets as he tried not to think about Dean. It was difficult, considering how drunk he was, and his hurt inevitably turned into anger when he imagined the brunette's face.

"Why won't he just talk to me? Coulda left with me," Sam mumbled to himself, words slurred as he stumbled into a wall, "Not good enough, not good enough for him." He took a moment to gather himself before pushing off again, making his way back to the motel and hoping like Hell that Dean was done and that the woman was gone.

* * *

The older Winchester helped the brunette to the door some time after one, walking back to the bed and laying down, sheets pulled over his midsection and he stretched as he waited for his brother. He felt good, better than he had in a long time, there was nothing like relieving stress with sex. He fingered the amulet on his chest, rolling it over his skin as he started to drift.

Sam all but tripped through the motel door, closing it behind him loudly but not necessarily intentionally. Normally he'd take his clothes off before falling into bed, but at this point he was so wasted it didn't even matter, so he plopped down on his mattress and stared wearily up at the ceiling.

The younger Winchester took a deep breath and wanted to fucking puke, the smell of sex filled his senses and his anger resurfaced, "Need a damn air freshener."

Dean opened his eyes and narrowed his brows as he looked over at his brother, “Are you drunk?” He asked, keeping his sheet close to his stomach as he sat up and turned to grab his boxer-briefs from the floor. It wasn’t really normal for Sam to get drunk and Dean, honestly, wasn’t a fan of seeing his brother like that.

Sam threw his arms up over his head and laughed, bitterly, "Not like you care, but yeah I am, m'old enough." He rolled to his stomach and buried his face in the comforter, grumbling incoherently, trying to keep from starting something between he and Dean that wouldn't end pretty.

“F’I didn’t care, I wouldn’t’ve asked,” Dean swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing as he pulled his boxers up and tucked himself away.

He looked at Sam, the helpless lump of his brother and moved to him, turning the younger Winchester over once more and pulling off his shoes one by one, “If you were gonna get drunk, you should’a called me to pick you up at the bar. What if you’d gotten mugged? Or worse?”

Sam groaned and tried feebly to kick away from Dean, limbs flailing miserably, "You were too occupied to worry about your _little brother_ , it's fine, I get it," He managed to pull away, but only after Dean had already gotten his shoes off, "Just-don't... don't touch me." The younger Winchester pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his forehead against them - it felt like the world was spinning.

Dean stood up straight and looked at his brother nervously, “What the fuck is your problem?”

His brother’s words made him feel seriously uneasy, and there went the last bit of his afterglow, sucked away by whatever the fuck Sam was doing, “I worry about you all the time, I’m worried about you **now** , why’re you actin’ like such an asshole to me when I haven’t done anythin’ wrong?” _Yes, he had, but that’d been three months ago_ , he’d hoped Sam would’ve just gotten over it, but those three words - ‘ _don’t touch me_ ’ - settled down inside of him and started festering at once.

Sam lifted his head to look at Dean, squinting and trying to focus on the older man's figure as he scoffed, "No, you're right, you never do anything wrong - let's just blame it all on me and call me an asshole. Well, you're the asshole, asshole!" The younger Winchester frowned and pressed his hands to his face, feeling slightly nauseous and light headed, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

“What?” Dean was somewhat taken aback, still confused with his brother’s hostility towards him. He wasn’t really sure where it was stemming from, but he didn’t like it, “I don’t understand what your problem with me is, right now, but you better get the fuck over it, because I’m not gonna sit here an’ take it from you.”

"I don't know, you might, seemed to take my dick pretty good," Sam shrugged halfheartedly and stumbled out of his bed, eyes widening in faux shock as he covered his mouth and gasped, "Oh right, not supposed to talk about that, are we?" The younger Winchester's facial expression softened, he then grimaced at Dean, feeling the twinges of hurt as he looked at the older man.

Dean swallowed sickly as he stared at his brother. He felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice and water over his head, “Sam...”

He didn’t know what to say. His attempt at trying to get them over this was backfiring in a way he hadn’t imagined possible, and now he literally wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere and die to avoid the shock and embarrassment, the fucking violent guilt he was feeling as he turned away to grab up his jeans. He was so mortified that his hands were shaking, god dammit, he’d seriously fucked up with this.

Sam all but snorted, huffing indignantly as he held his hands up, "I mean, am I that bad? Are you so damn ashamed of me that you'd rather fuck women you don't even know?" The younger Winchester could still feel the alcohol buzzing through him, giving him liquid courage as he moved to Dean, putting a forceful hand on his brother's shoulder.

"It's not fair," Sam uttered out, voice taut and tremulous, "What makes you so high and mighty that you get to make me feel this way about you, and then go and sleep around like I don't matter? It fucking hurts."

“I...” Dean looked at the hand on his shoulder, the warm heat of his brother’s palm resting against his bare skin and he couldn’t dare meet his brother’s gaze.

What Sam was saying was the very thing he’d been trying to escape, the possibility of more, the growing of emotions, it was what he’d been fighting against himself, for the longest time now. “I can’t talk about this,” He said, chest aching with the words as he started to pull away.

Sam furrowed his brows and shook his head, "You're so damn self centered, selfish even. I didn't ask for this, didn't ask to feel this way. No, you started it and now you won't even talk to me," He pulled at his hair angrily and backed away, "You know what? Fuck you! You shouldn't be able to just back out and say you can't talk about it."

“I’m sorry! Is that what you wanna hear? You want me to apologize for fuckin’ this up between us?” Dean glared at his brother, moving to Sam and fisting up the collar of his shirt with both hands and shoving him back onto the bed.

He stood still, staring down at his brother as he breathed, “Well I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did, okay? It's my fuckin' fault an' I regret it every fuckin’ day, does that make you happy?”

Sam felt his chin involuntarily quiver with Dean's words as he propped himself up to look at the older man, eyes watering, "You regret it... **me**? You regret me," He repeated, stunned, chest aching as he got up from the bed, moving to look for his shoes, "Of course you do, I've never been anything but a burden to you."

Dean turned as he stepped into his pants, pulling them up his legs as he shook his head, “I like that you’re still able to fool yourself into thinkin’ that **you’ve** been a problem to me. I don’t regret you, an’ you’re not a goddamn burden, okay. It’s **me** that’s the problem, I regret what **I** did. **I** regret kissin’ you, I regret what **I** did, that’s **my** fault.”

"Well, I don't," Sam said solemnly, calmly, running a hand over his face before sitting back down on the edge of his bed, "I don't regret any of it and I don't- I don't think I can I can just watch you do this," He hung his head and tried to keep his breathing slow and calculated, "Sleep with women, almost like you're trying to wash me off of you with someone else. I can't do it."

“This is **exactly** what I tried to avoid, _that_ right there,” Dean said, sitting on his own bed and looking at Sam, “ _Jealousy_. I don’t want it, I don’t want it between us. It’s... It’s hard enough just bein’ brother’s, bein’ close an’ confusin’ like we already are. I didn’t wanna add a whole ‘nother level to how fucked up our relationship is. You act like you have some kinda _right_ , now that you’ve fucked me, like we’re suddenly more’n that, like you own me.”

"Don't even turn this shit around on me," Sam all but growled and turned to look at Dean, nostrils flaring with anger, "I know I don't have any right to be jealous, but it's not something I can just fucking turn off. It just- it fucking hurts to watch is all, and you can't judge me for that."

Dean stared back at Sam, feeling the anger boiling up, “Yes I can! How many women have I fucked in my life, Sam? Seriously? You’re gonna suddenly be upset about this one? What’s so fuckin’ different from her an’ every other one before?”

"Fuck you,"  Sam stood up suddenly, wobbling on his feet as he stepped back into his boots, glancing at Dean, "Fuck you for making me feel this way, fuck you for making me want you, and lastly, after all of that, fuck you for judging me and my feelings even though **you** caused all of it."

The younger Winchester patted his pockets, making sure he had his wallet and anything else he'd need before moving to the door, "I'm not gonna stick around and make it worse for myself, all you're doing is inadvertently making me miserable and I don't deserve it."

“Right,” Dean breathed out, just barely bending over to rest his elbows on his knees and put his face in his hands. This was literally **exactly** what he’d been trying to stop from happening. Something between them taking shape, jealousy on one or the other’s - or both’s - parts, and then this, Sam leaving.

It was like watching his deepest fear come alive, losing Sam because Dean had slipped up and now what were they? He tried so hard not to fuck up, and that’s exactly what happened.

"Right?" Sam asked incredulously, moving from the door and over to Dean, dropping to his knees in front of his brother, "That's it?! I know you probably feel like you're obligated to care for me because I'm your brother and all, but is that all there is? Why in the fuck would you kiss me if you only saw me as a brother, huh? Why would you expect me to just forget it happened and brush it off like you've been doing? I'm not like you, I can't just go from fucking my brother to sleeping around like some damn whore."

Dean nearly rolled his eyes, but resisted the urge, “Why does it have to be more? Whether I feel more for you or not, why can’t you just be satisfied with just bein’ brothers an’ leave it at that? Why do you gotta make this more complicated than it was?”

He pulled his hands from his face and shook his head, “I don’t **want** it to be more, that’s what matters. More is... Is jealousy, an’ not bein’ in the mood, an’ wantin’ to do nice thin’s, an’ celebratin’ or forgettin’ anniversaries. More... I can’t **do** more.”

He stood again and moved from Sam, “I don’t _have_ more, Sam, I can’t do it, I can’t just risk everythin’ we have an’ try to make somethin’ _else_ of this, I don’t want to.”

Sam stayed knelt in the same position for a few more minutes, before uttering out a soft, "Alright."

He got up and kicked his shoes off, shrugging his jacket off of his shoulders before climbing back into his bed. Though he still blamed Dean for everything - blamed the older man for everything he felt - he'd bite the bullet and try to save what little bit of a relationship they had left, despite how bad it hurt, because he couldn't lose Dean - refused to.

Dean moved from the bed, walking into the kitchen and grabbing out a beer, popping the cap and sipping from it before buttoning his jeans and taking to the table by the door. He was well awake now, and too miserable to try and get some sleep.

As much as he’d wanted his brother to agree and settle back, he didn’t expect to feel so disappointed about it. He wasn’t sure where their relationship was now, no where that he liked, but at least Sam had agreed and stayed. Dean didn’t know what he would’ve done if Sam had left.

* * *

Their relationship was uneasy after that, and Dean was sinking deeper and deeper into it, longing for his brother until he practically ached. He slept with a few women - or tried to - the first one was... _Okay_ , but the second one ended badly when he’d started fantasizing over his brother, and almost went completely limp when he’d came back to it, and met her eyes and... _She wasn’t Sam_. It was fucking ridiculous, considering he’d been the one to ask for normalcy between them, and he was having such a hard time letting go.

The third time he’d actually said his fucking brother’s name, which was worse, considering she’d **met** Sam. Suddenly it was like he was fighting with the women he was trying to sleep with. This was exactly why he didn’t let himself have his brother before, he knew it’d be like this, one foot into the puddle and then sinking down neck deep. He knew he’d want more, that he wouldn’t just settle for one time. It’d been hard enough before, but goddamn...

The fourth wasn’t a woman at all. Which probably shouldn’t have surprised him, he was definitely heading that way. Taller, like Sam, with longer hair and toned muscles, and he was half naked as the guy moved down to his jeans when he realized just how bad of an idea it was.

* * *

Sam did a pretty good job at keeping his emotions at bay, keeping any and all conversation with Dean to a minimum in fear that he'd say more. It shouldn't have surprised him that Dean continued to sleep around, woman after woman - it hurt, but he bit his tongue and took everything in stride, tried letting it roll off of his back as he reminded himself it was okay.

Dean didn't want him like that, didn't want to make more of it and the more he convinced himself of that, the less it hurt, and eventually it wouldn't bother him at all. Time heals all wounds, no matter how big and gaping they may be.

The younger Winchester went for a late night walk, like he'd been doing since he had the falling out with Dean. It gave him time alone so that he wouldn't have to look at the older man and be constantly reminded of what had happened.

Normally he stayed out for hours, but it was colder than usual so he headed back to the motel. There wasn't really anything that could have prepared him for what he walked in on; Dean and some guy, a guy who oddly looked a little bit like Sam.

He stood frozen in the doorway, some what thankful that they weren't actually fucking.

"You know," Sam started calmly, frowning as he stared intently at Dean, "I was just getting to where I was okay with the women... But _**this**_..." He gestured to the guy, "That's a low blow, Dean."

Dean pulled his hand away from the back of the guy’s neck and looked at Sam nervously. He sat up, buttoning his jeans as the other guy looked between them in confusion, “I thought you went on your walk.”

“Is he you’re boyfriend?” The Sam look-a-like asked and Dean didn’t answer.

The older Winchester stood from the bed, handing the guy his clothes and walking him out of the room, stripped almost bare, before looking at his brother as he shut the door.

He clenched his jaw and moved to the bed, grabbing his shirt and pulling it on, “Guess I’ll stop bringin’ ‘em back here.”

Sam didn't even bother indulging Dean with a more heated answer as he moved inside, throwing his coat over the back of the lounging chair, "It was cold and yeah, you should probably do exactly that."

The younger Winchester pulled his layers of shirts off as he moved to his bed, kicking his boots off next to the night stand, dropping his shirts to the floor before heading towards the bathroom, "I'm gonna shower, don't wait up."

“Cockblock,” Dean growled out, pursing his lips and laying back down on the bed.

He wasn’t going to admit that he was grateful for Sam walking in - that he’d started to back out of it before his brother had even entered the room, the last thing the younger Winchester needed to know was something like that. He sighed and smoothed his hand over his stomach. If finding a replica wasn’t going to work, he was going to have to think of something else.

* * *

It seemed like the next few weeks were even more tense between Sam and Dean than they normally were, other than discussing cases, Sam could count how many times he'd spoken to Dean on one hand.

It'd almost become a daily thing for Sam to look in the mirror every morning, intentionally and internally telling himself that things wouldn't change, that Dean would never want him the way he wanted Dean.

Even though it didn't ever really stop hurting, he persevered and forced himself to get back into the game so to speak - which is where Natalie came in. Sam met her in the midst of a case and she was a sweet, good, down to earth girl with dark blonde hair and freckles smattered all over her face.

Of course, part of him realized how much she resembled Dean, the other part of himself didn't really care because he actually liked her a little - even if she did remind him of something he couldn't have.

Unlike Dean's encounters, the thing between Sam and Natalie hadn't become sexual, not in the slightest - in a way, he respected her for not just jumping his bones. They'd been in the same town going on two weeks at this point, so he asked her out. She'd said yes, so he was moving about their motel room, getting ready silently as he tried avoiding Dean all together.

Dean watched his brother warily. Though he’d done his best to keep his hands to himself since the uh... The encounter with the _Sam-a-like_ , he tried to keep quiet about his sex life when it came to his brother. He wasn’t sure if Sam knew or not, it probably didn’t matter, but he’d shut his mouth about anything other than cases.

He could feel it though, building up inside of him, he knew it was only a matter of time before he fucking lost it and did something seriously stupid, he just wasn’t sure what.

“You goin’ somewhere?” He asked finally. Though he didn’t want to ask, and likely didn’t want to know, Dean was sort of a masochist.

Sam nodded as he put his tie on, folding the soft fabric and pulling it through the loop, "Yeah, need to borrow the car if you don't mind, got a date." He moved to sit down on the edge of his bed, slipping his feet into his nice dress shoes as he pushed his hair back out of his face.

“You’ve... You’ve got a-a-a what?” Dean blinked and stared at Sam, feeling his stomach bottom out. He turned his ear towards his brother, squinting at him as he felt the room suddenly close in on him, the temperature rise ten degrees on his skin and he... _He had to’ve heard wrong._

"I asked Natalie out, she said yes so I'm taking her out for dinner," Sam looked at Dean and raised a brow, "You know, a _date_ ; something you do when you like someone?" The younger Winchester stood up and stepped into the bathroom, he straightened his tie in the mirror before stepping back out to pick his suit jacket up off the bed.

“ _Like_?” Dean got up from the table, “You... You... You _like_... Her?” He couldn’t breathe, he needed air. He watched Sam walk to the bed and moved to him, snatching the jacket from his brother’s hands, “You like **her**?”

Sam's eyes widened a little and he nodded numbly, "Yeah. I mean, she seems nice enough." He shrugged and backed away from Dean a little, confused as to why the older man was acting odd, "Need to do something, right? I don't wanna be eighty years old and still alone."

Dean shook his head as he listened to Sam, “You-you won’t be alone at eighty, Sam, you probably won’t even make it passed fifty, like me. But you won’t be alone then, neither,” He licked his lips as he set the jacket back down, “That’s what I’m here for, so that doesn’t happen.”

"Right," Sam nodded slowly, even more confused than he was before as he picked the jacket back up, "And I'm thankful, but I need someone to spend my life with romantically too, I can't just sit on the side lines watching you hook up and not pursue something similar for myself. I'd like to think that I deserve to be happy."

“You do,” Dean grabbed the jacket away again, hiding it behind his back this time, “But not with... _Nicole_ or whatever her name was, not her.”

He knew he was acting completely irrational, Sam did deserve to do what he had - slept around and things - but Dean had never used the term ‘like’ to describe someone he fucked. _What if Sam fell in love with her?_

"It's Natalie, and what's wrong with her?" Sam asked as he crossed his arms, at this rate he was going to be late, "She's the only person I've hit it off with recently, so why not? She's a good girl, I can see it going somewhere, **possibly** ," He looked at his watch, "Provided you give me my jacket so I can go."

The older Winchester swallowed and shook his head, “No.”

His heart was racing now, staggering almost, with the pain of his brother’s admission. He fought not to blink too much, to stare at Sam sternly, pressing his lips together and biting at the insides of them. He had to have something more, something to say, something to do, anything to keep his brother from leaving.

Sam narrowed his brows and squinted at Dean, "Listen, I gave you what you wanted. I gave you space, I stopped bringing it up and I stopped mentioning the people you sleep with - I did it all, because it's what **you** wanted. Normal is what you wanted and it's what I'm trying my hardest to do. So please, give me my jacket?"

“ **No** ,” Dean said again, shaking his head and staring guiltily into Sam’s eyes, trying to fight the slight tremble of his lips.

He couldn’t think, it was like he was drowning, like he didn’t know what he could do. He knew what he was asking for wasn’t fair, and it was very ‘ _having your cake and eating it too_ ’, but he couldn’t help it. Why couldn’t Sam just settle like **he** was choosing to? Stay single, stay with him - goddamn, it was selfish, probably one of the only times he actually **was** , and he was already regretting it horribly.

" _No_?" Sam asked, shaking his head as he crowded Dean's space, wrapping his arms around the older man to grab his jacket, "I don't know what it is you're trying to pull, but like you told me - you don't have any right to be like this."

He brushed their noses together and looked into Dean's eyes, "You pushed me away, remember? You don't want to be with me, so I'm allowed to be with someone else. I'm not gonna spend my whole life waiting on you like some pathetic loser." Sam exhaled shakily before backing away with his coat in his hand.

Dean reached out and snatched the jacket from Sam, tearing the left sleeve in his haste to get it back. He felt bad doing it, he felt bad doing everything else he’d been doing for the past few months, but he couldn’t stop it from happening any more than he could’ve stopped himself from kissing Sam when he had. He just kept telling himself over and over again, ‘ _this is why I didn’t want there to be more_ ’.

Sam was blaming himself when it was Dean all along, he wanted Sam, wanted the younger Winchester so bad, and it’d made him miserable for years. It was probably only a matter of time before it started effecting his brother.

Sam could feel his body trembling with anger as he dropped the remaining piece of his jacket to ball his fists in Dean's shirt to slam him up against the wall, a mixture of fifty million different emotions flooding through him as he stared at the older man, bodies pressed together.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" The younger Winchester was seething, breathing heavily in Dean's face, "And you owe me a new fucking jacket." He pushed away from Dean, glaring at him as he moved to the night stand to grab the keys to the Impala.

Dean, despite his entire body shaking in response to being pushed against the wall, moved and snatched the keys before Sam could, throwing them somewhere - under his bed or something, most likely - he wasn’t looking. He reached out a second time, grabbing the front of his brother’s shirt. His fingers slipped over the soft cotton and caught the middle, tearing out a few buttons from Sam’s midsection area as he tried to pull the larger man back.

"What the-why are you **doing** this‽" Sam all but yelled and grabbed Dean by the wrists, rushing the older man back up against the wall, pinning him there as he searched his brother's face for answers, "I'm getting so fucking sick and tired of your double standards, you fuck around and it's fine but as soon as I find someone I'm even remotely interested in, you throw a tantrum."

Sam shook his head, eyes pleading with the older man, "Why? Do you get some sort of sick fascination out of making me fall in love with you and then forcing me away? I was almost over you and then you have to pull this shit, making me think you care even though I know you don't."

“When did I ever tell you I didn’t care about you the same way?” Dean breathed out, face going red as he stared at Sam, the single tear slipping down his cheek as he turned his head to the side.

“When did I ever say that I didn’t reciprocate, that I didn’t care about you like that, too?” Oh goddamn, he couldn’t stop himself from saying it, he couldn’t fight back the rush of tears following the first, his chest heaving for air as he tried to fight to get away from Sam.

" _Don't_..." Sam shook his head, his own chest heaving in time with Dean's as he pressed his forehead to the older man's temple, Dean's arms still pinned firmly to the wall, "You don't get to do this to me, it's not fucking fair."

It was painfully apparent that Dean had stopped him from going because he still cared, but he stood by what he said. It wasn't fair, he didn't want to be sucked right back into this whole big mess of fucked up-ness, not if Dean was just gonna pull back and basically chastise him for his feelings.

Dean closed his eyes, hands still fighting in vain, even as he turned into his brother, head tilting, lips searching until they found Sam’s and wrapped themselves around the younger Winchester’s mouth. Everything inside of his head was telling him not to, but he couldn’t help it - he was making another mistake again, but he couldn’t stop his body from responding to his brother.

Sam grunted in surprise and dropped Dean's hands, his own going directly to his brother's hips and suddenly it felt all too familiar, like they were just replaying the train wreck that had happened before.

He pulled back despite wanting to stay glued to Dean, eyes blown wide as he shook his head, "No, not again, not if you're just gonna regret it - as much as I want you I can't, not if it's gonna be the same."

“Sam,” Dean started to complain, reaching out to touch his brother’s shirt collar, brows narrowing as he tried to think straight, collect himself, figure out just what the fuck he was doing with his brother, “Sam, I... I can’t promise you anythin’,” He licked his lips, “I’m not thinkin’ right ninety percent of the time you’re involved, I just know that I need this, I need you. An’ I dunno how to stop needin’ it now that I’ve had it.”

Sam sighed and clenched his jaw, lowering his head sadly before backing away from the older man completely, "I need you too, but I am not gonna sit around and just give into your double standards. I can't indulge in this knowing I'll eventually end up bitter as soon as you find someone else to fuck. It hurts, I've done it once and I'm not doing it again."

He shrugged and touched his lips, "I'm not asking for a lifetime commitment of 'I love you's, or for you to remember any dates or do nice things for me - all I'm asking for is something a little more solid than ' _I need you_ '."

Dean considered his brother’s words as he dropped his head back against the wall, “So what, like a monogamous relationship?” He mused aloud, “You need me to be with you an’ you alone, is that it? No women, just Sammy, an’ the probability of ruinin’ everythin’ we have because we chain one another down?”  
"No," Sam chuckled dryly as he removed his tie to unbutton the few remaining buttons he had left on his shirt, "Guess not, wouldn't want to _chain you down_."

He glanced at Dean before shrugging his shirt off, sauntering into the kitchen to throw it away. The younger Winchester leaned up against the counter, one arm laying over his stomach, his other hand covering his face.

Dean followed after Sam, joining him in the kitchen and taking his hand from his face, staring tentatively at his brother before hugging him. His mind was moving fifty miles a second, trying to figure out what he could do to make this better, easier on them both.

What Sam was asking of him wasn’t unreasonable, it was expected in every other normal relationship - because they were so _normal_.

“Don’t take offense an’ get upset, but I need’a keep this as... As clear as possible," He started softly, "You need me to be with you or without you completely? There’d be no messin’ around with anyone else, even if I always still came back to you afterwards?”

Sam wanted to wrap his arms around Dean as well, but he restrained himself, "Would you want me sleeping around with other people if we were together?"

He pressed his nose to the side of Dean's face, "Answer me that and then I'll answer you."

“I... I don’t know,” Dean thought aloud, “I mean, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never really just been with one person. F’you wanted to, I don’t think I’d stop you, long as thin’s between us didn’t change, an’ you didn’t go off with ‘em. I think I’d be okay, but I dunno. Sayin’ it an’ doin’ it are two different thin’s.”

"That's where we differ, Dean, because I wouldn't want you to be with anyone else except for me," Sam shrugged halfheartedly and kissed Dean just beneath his ear, "Makes me possessive, greedy even, but I'd want you for myself. I wouldn't need anyone else if I had you."

Dean smirked weakly, “You’ve always been such a selfish boy,” He said, turning his cheek to Sam’s, “Alright, I’ll try, but you have to understan' me, Sammy. You hafta agree, an’ I’m only doin’ this because I think that tryin’ **not** to is gonna ruin us no matter what else we do.”

He looked into his brother’s eyes, “I want you, I do. More than anythin’, I always have, an’ I always will, but I **do** stray an’ wander just in general. Possessive an’ greedy is fine, I might even do it just to see that. But I won’t... _Cheat_ on you,” The term sounded disgusting coming off his tongue, and he hated it, “But I’m gonna flirt regardless. Do you think you can be okay with that?”

"I can live with that," Sam agreed softly, eyes falling to Dean's lips unintentionally. He swallowed and brought his hand up to touch his brother's cheek, hesitating before leaning in to kiss the older man, softer than he'd ever really done before.

The younger Winchester had never really taken the time before to feel how soft Dean's lips were, all of their other kisses had been rough, painful even.

Dean would’ve commented back, but he leaned into the kiss instead, parting his lips as he melted against his brother, arms wrapping around Sam’s torso.

It felt better already, just letting go of everything he’d been holding onto. Though he wasn’t sure how things would end up, even within the next week or two, he couldn’t really bring himself to care, as long as he still had his brother.

Sam sighed happily out of his nose, lips brushing almost tenderly as he caressed the older man's face, his free hand moving to fist the nape of Dean's neck lightly, "You realize you're gonna have to be okay with me being jealous, when you do flirt, right?" He breathed against Dean's lips as he pushed away from the counter, "'Cause this time I would have every right to be so."

“I’m countin’ on it,” Dean said, grinning, “Maybe you can fuck me back into knowin’ my place.” He flicked his tongue across Sam’s lips, feeling his cock throbbing eagerly in response to the hand on his neck , “I have faith in you, I think you could remind me who I answer to.”

"Mm," Sam licked his lips to taste Dean and then bit down on the bottom one as he stared at his brother, "Shame I'm not jealous right now, then." He let his hand trail slowly from his brother's face, down Dean's neck and to his chest before rubbing his fingertips teasingly where he knew the older man's nipples were.

Dean raised a brow, “You’re not jealous? You’re not jealous that that guy I was hookin’ up with before, I went out seekin’ ‘im specifically, to give me somethin’ like you? That don’t make you jealous? That I was about to let ‘im put it in me? That I was kissin’ ‘im, an’ touchin’ ‘im?” He wasn’t sure how sensitive his brother was to that kind of admission but, even if Sam took it personally, he probably should’ve known anyways.

Sam all but growled and lowered his hands to Dean's hips, jerking the older man closer as he looked into his eyes, "Seems kinda stupid you went out looking for someone like me when you could've had the real thing," He backed Dean up against the wall, pressing his hips to the older man's as he let his lips ghost Dean's, "Does burn my ass a little that you kissed him, though. Was he a good kisser? Better than me?"

“Mm, wouldn’t you like to know,” Dean raised his brows suggestively, bucking his hips into Sam’s as he grabbed his brother’s ass, both open palms, fingers pressing into the firm flesh as he pulled the larger man close and rolled their hips together, his painfully obvious erection outlining his jeans - clear against his left thigh.

"I would, actually," Sam groaned and turned Dean around, moving to press himself against the older man's ass, rolling his hips as he held his brother in place, mouth pressed to the shell of Dean's ear, "Were you satisfied with your Sam look-a-like? Disappointed? Don't play coy with me, I wanna know."

Dean arched his hips back, panting as his cock hardened even more, “Guess we’ll never know,” He continued to tease, “You kinda walked in just when it was gettin’ good. We’d been all over one another before that, my cock makin’ shape against his belly, his nasty little whispers in my ear about how he was gonna take me, make me _his_.”

"Now you're just trying to piss me off," Sam reached around and unbuttoned Dean's pants as he nibbled on the older man's ear lobe, he slid the zipper down and proceeded to push the denim, "You're not answering me, you're just telling me shit I don't wanna hear."

He grinded into the older man roughly, and then bit down on his shoulder through the cotton, "Were you disappointed with him, yes or no?"

Dean pursed his lips, “I’m always disappointed when I’m not fuckin’ you. You wouldn’t be able to imagine how stupid the past four people I’ve tried to have sex with’ve been. I think you’d get a kick outta know’n,” He breathed, chuckling, “Said you’re name to that one uh... Karen? Katy or whatever? The one you danced with, yeah.”

"Would've paid to have been a fly on the wall, just to see her reaction," Sam slid his fingers under the band of Dean's boxer-briefs and slid them down slowly, reveling in the feel of the silken skin under his fingertips, "The only reason I was interested in Natalie was because she reminded me of you."

He placed small, feverish kisses all over Dean's neck, from one side around the back and to the other as he slid out of his own jeans and boxers before pressing back up against Dean, hissing at how good it felt to feel their skin together.

“Sam,” Dean moaned out, leaning back into his brother as he stepped out of the jeans and boxers, carefully kicking them away. He pulled his shirt off, reaching back, above, to run his palm over the back of Sam’s neck, fingers tangling in his hair as the older Winchester turned his upper half enough to kiss his brother.

Sam breathed in sharply through his nose before turning Dean back around the rest of the way, lips moving and tongues twirling together as he guided the older man to the bed.

"I'm not gonna prep you, want it to hurt," The younger Winchester whispered huskily against Dean's mouth before turning him and pushing him onto the bed, on his hands and knees before bending over to kiss the knobs of his brother's spine, "Don't want you to be able to sit down or walk without thinking of me."

Dean swallowed as he looked back at his brother, knees sliding along the sheets as he arched his body and waited, gasping at the press of his brother’s lips. Really, he approved, he wanted it to be painful - he wanted to feel Sam in him long after the younger Winchester had retreated.

Sam kissed his way down to the older man's puckered entrance, holding both ass cheeks open with his hands as he lapped at the ring, getting it nice and wet before he leaned back and lined himself up, one hand firmly on Dean's lower spine. He pushed the tip of his cock in without hesitation, lolling his head back and hissing at how tight the older man was. Sam smoothed his hands up Dean's sides, trying to relax him a little as he pushed the rest of the way in.

“Ah, _fuck_ ,” Dean cursed through clenched teeth as he pressed his forehead against the sheets, arm sliding along the soft cotton before gripping it up in his fist.

Though their first time had been similar, he could remember Sam taking a moment to prep him somewhat, so’s he didn’t bleed or anything, it’d been rushed and heated, so fast that neither of them could breathe. Now, Sam was going slower, and the pulls were just slightly more specific. Thankfully, he’d been messing with himself, somewhat.

Sam kept still, long enough for Dean's body to acclimate to the stretch before moving his hips in long, deep thrusts - purposefully going agonizingly slow, trying to get Dean to beg for it. He watched in awe as his length repeatedly disappeared, sheathed snugly within his brother's heat, "Forgot how good you look like this."

“Mm, fuck you,” The older Winchester breathed as he moved with Sam, wetting his fingers and scraping his dull nails over his left nipple as he closed his eyes and groaned, “Ah, _yeah_ ,” He said between the throaty whimpers, feeling the sting of his brother’s length burying into him, so slow and drawling, measuring itself as his body took it up again.

Sam chuckled and removed his hands from his brother's hips, letting his arms hang to his sides as he pushed in and out of Dean, a little slower than before. This was something he'd been deprived of, something he didn't think he'd have again - so he was going to take his time with it, commit it to memory in case things went sour again.

Dean bit his bottom lip, getting lost in the roll of their bodies, the burn and sting of not being prepared slowly going away, passing itself off as a dull ache. He slid his knees carefully outward, gasping as he fought to keep their movements timed together, “Fuck, Sammy,” He rolled his hips, pushing back against each of Sam’s thrusts and causing his toes to curl with them, a sharp gasp escaping as his cock throbbed helplessly between his legs, but he kept his hands to himself.

Sam continued at the same pace for a while longer, nice and slow, keeping his hands to himself and grinning at the way the older man's ass jiggled anytime he'd thrust in unexpectedly. He pulled out completely and tapped Dean on the hip, "Roll over."

“Mm?” Dean laid down flat, stretching and smirking, “An’ if I don’t wanna?” He looked back at Sam, rolling over on the bed despite his tease. He stretched again, back arching from the sheets, feet sliding over them, left knee higher than the other as he stared up at his brother hungrily, “Like this?”

"Good enough," Sam grinned and grabbed Dean by the thighs and pulled his ass to the edge of the bed, pushing the older man's thighs towards his chest as he lined up and thrust back in, keeping Dean pinned to the bed under his weight. He withdrew almost completely and slammed back into his brother, his mouth moving to cover Dean's as he grunted with his efforts - thrusts now hard and fast, rocking the entire bed with his movements.

Dean gasped against Sam’s lips, eyes widening as his legs shook. His hands reached up, one moving to the back of his brother’s neck, the other lifting his left leg to wrap it over Sam’s shoulder.

The larger man's weight slamming down into him was practically shoving out every breath of air he gathered, and he could feel sudden, tumultuous stings of pleasure rocking through his body. He took Sam’s bottom lip between his teeth, suckling the soft, sweet flesh and nipping it carefully during each withdraw of his brother’s hips.

Sam started moaning a little louder, each thrust beginning to feel better than the last. He ran his palm down the length of Dean's leg that was on his shoulder, pressing a heated kiss to his brother's mouth before turning to kiss the meat of Dean's calf.

"Mm," Sam exhaled heavily, words drawling and gruff as he fucked into the older man's tight, little hole, "Shit."

“Yeah, that probably covers it,” Dean breathed out, watching his brother and moving his hand to push Sam’s hair out of his face.

He dropped his head back on a particular thrust, the loud, choked whimper coming out in two parts between the next thrust and he wet his fingers, reaching down between their bodies to ghost the tips of them over the head of his cock, “Ah, fuck, _fuck_ , Sammy.”

Sam's hips stuttered involuntarily when Dean said his name, body succumbing to the pleasure as he came, grunting and moaning his brother's name, cock throbbing helplessly inside of Dean. He looked down and licked his lips, feeling his mouth water as he watched Dean touch himself.

The younger Winchester withdrew carefully before moving down Dean's body, whispering into the soft skin of his stomach, "Wanna taste you so fucking bad." Sam swatted Dean's hand away and wrapped his lips around the purpling tip, fingers sliding into the older man's used hole as he bobbed his head along his brother's thick length.

Dean shuddered as he looked down in surprise, body still trembling from his brother’s release. He licked his fingers, tasting himself before running them over his chest, his free hand dropping down to comb through Sam’s hair, pushing it out of his face once more so that Dean could see him better, the thin lips wrapping around his cock and-“Son of a bitch,” He said in a tight breath as he slid his heels down the larger man’s back.

Sam curled his digits inside of Dean, pads of his fingers brushing the older man's prostate harshly as he forced his mouth as far down as he could go. It had been entirely too long, and he missed the sweet musk of his brother's skin, the saltiness on his tongue and the way he was able to make Dean arch and squirm. The younger Winchester hollowed his cheeks and hummed around the length, intentionally grazing the swollen head lightly with his teeth.

“Ah, _Sam_ ,” Dean fisted up his brother’s hair, head dropping back as he arched and sobbed, the hand on his chest moving up, touching his collarbone and neck, traveling down over his stomach and left leg before touching Sam’s jaw line.

He was close, so fucking close and there were sharp dots of color over his vision, sounds and words coming from his lips as his legs fell open slightly. His hips moved tentatively, and he had to look down to see Sam's mouth taking him up, just one more time before he came.

Sam met Dean's eyes and grinned as he swallowed the warm, bitter come. He suckled on the length gingerly for another minute or so before pulling off and moving to the bed, wrapping an arm around Dean's waist and pulling him along. The younger Winchester let out a heavy, bated breath and pressed his lips to Dean's shoulder.

“Mm,” Dean gasped out, body arching against Sam as he turned into the heat of his brother’s frame, “Sammy.”

He took up the larger man’s face, kissing over it as he caught his breath and grinned lazily, finally allowing himself to settle down and stare up at the roof, “Ten minute break?” He offered, running his hand over his chest still and his body twisted up from the bed as he teased the hardened nipples.

"Fifteen and then maybe," Sam smiled, slow and lazy before arching himself up to tease the older man's nipples between his teeth, tongue lashing out over the tips of them as he moved from one to the other, eyes locked intently with Dean's.

Dean stared down and licked his lips as he groaned in approval and grabbed Sam’s hair up in his fingers, pulling the larger man up and kissing him roughly before rolling them over and settling in his brother’s lap, “Did you say five?” He asked in a heated breath against Sam’s cheek before straightening up and arching back, rolling their hips together as he clawed gently down his brother’s chest and stomach.

Sam tightened his muscles instinctively and gasped as he watched little pink lines form down his abdomen, hands resting on the older man's hips as he looked up at Dean, lids heavy as he smirked at his brother, "Maybe I did, if you do that again I could be convinced I said one minute."

The older Winchester smirked and grabbed the back of Sam’s head, leaning down and pressing heated, breathy kisses over his brother’s neck and chest, nails digging in and leaving another set of lines down the right side of his torso.

He grinded his ass down in time with the movement, teeth nipping Sam’s skin before he leaned up and panted heavily into the larger man’s ear, "Good, baby boy?"

"Mm," Sam moaned weakly, lips parting as he already felt his cock throb with anticipation, "Yeah."

He moved Dean's hips, forcing the older man to undulate himself on Sam's cock and he could feel the sticky wetness of his come oozing out of Dean. Sam rolled his head back and bucked his hips up, voice gravelly and needy, "Please, just sit on it. Ride me?"

Dean chuckled and sat up, reaching back to brush his fingers over Sam’s length, pumping it a good few times, slickening it up with the juices still filling himself, “You a mind reader too?” He asked, shifting his knees and settling back on the hardening length, the sore ring of muscle accepting Sam’s cock and Dean looked at his brother, sticky fingers sliding through the curls of the younger Winchester’s happy trail, “Think I’ve wanted to ride you more’n I wanted you to fuck me...”

Sam watched the older man intently, lips gradually parting as his brother sat down on his length. It was warm and wet, stretched almost perfectly to his girth and it took all he had not to let out a low, guttural moan. Instead of gripping his brother roughly, he let his hands smooth out along Dean's thighs, eyes following his hands as they moved back up to the older man's chest, feeling the soft, squishy flesh before dragging the blunt edge of his nails over his brother's nipples.

"Yeah?" Sam asked in a heated whisper, eyes raising to meet Dean's as his tongue lashed out against his bottom lip, "Show me how bad you wanted it?"

Dean rested his hands back on Sam’s legs, body bowing as he rolled his hips experimentally. He breathed in sharply as he felt Sam’s fingers teasing his nipples. Ignoring the tingles of sweat dripping through his hair, perspiration dotting his forehead as his body moved, slow and careful at first, but growing in momentum.

His lips parted, shaky breaths coming out as he looked down at his brother, the scars, the anti-possession tattoo, the ripples of muscles across his pecks, Sam’s sweet puppy eyes darkened, hooded with lust in a way he couldn’t wait to familiarize. The amulet bounced on his chest in time with his body and he dropped his head back, closing his eyes for a moment to appreciate the slide of his brother’s length, in and out of him.

Sam propped himself up on one of his elbows so he could reach further, right hand smoothing up along Dean's neck, fingertips brushing along the strong cords and his brother's Adam's apple as he grunted lowly. He fought to keep from bucking up into Dean, and for the most part he let Dean fuck himself on his length at his own pace, his hips only twitching minutely.

The younger Winchester let his eyes rake over Dean's body and he felt his cock throb in the older man's heat as he observed his brother's soft lines, his freckle covered shoulders and the way the older man's plush lips parted in ecstasy any time he'd drive himself down on Sam.

“Mm, Sammy,” Dean breathed out, brows raising as he felt the touch of fingers on his neck.

He couldn’t imagine what he looked like right now, to his brother; paler - face, neck, and shoulder flushed red as his cock slapped from Dean’s stomach to his brother’s. The sweat had probably caused his hair to stop defying gravity - he was sure he could feel the short hairs shaking as he rode Sam’s lap.

Dean looked down, meeting his brother’s eyes and smirking, slowing for just a second as he reached up and tucked the amulet between his teeth before returning to the pace he was at once more.

Sam couldn't help the moan that was ripped out of him when Dean put the amulet in his mouth, the small action inexplicably arousing him even more. He let his hand slide back down his brother's abdomen, grunting and whimpering more openly, head occasionally lolling back before he wrapped his hand around Dean's girth, twisting his fist around the head slowly.

"Not gonna..." Sam clenched his eyes shut, almost afraid to look at Dean in fear of coming, he opened one eye and squinted at his brother, "Not gonna last long this time. **Fuck** , you look so good."

Dean chuckled around the lace and metal, tongue flicking over it as he reached down and covered Sam’s hand with his own, feeling the veins along the back of it, then down his arm, tracing over them as he gasped, mostly through his nose. He kept his eyes locked on Sam’s, muffled sounds escaping his lips, eyes trying to close as he felt the orgasm rolling through him, catching him up in it and he groaned, almost letting go of the amulet but managing to tuck it under his tongue.

Sam watched Dean's mouth, absolutely transfixed on the little piece of metal shimmering with the older man's saliva, and when he felt his brother's cock head throbbing in his palm, he looked down just in time to see the thick, white strands of come spurt out, landing on his stomach, dribbles of it falling over their fingers.

The younger Winchester let his head fall back against the mattress as he arched his back, thrusting his hips up and slamming into Dean a few times before letting go and coming as well.

“Fuck!” The amulet fell from Dean’s mouth as his body rocked with Sam’s thrusts and he could feel his legs trembling with each one, his left hand moving from his brother’s leg as he leaned forward, necklace dangling between them as he gasped and slowed their bodies. He rolled his hips, staring down at Sam before pressing soft, wet kisses along his chest, “Goddamn, Sammy.”

"Mm," Sam mumbled, gasping for breath as he carded his fingers through his brother's short hair, "Twenty minutes and then round three, yeah?" He grabbed the amulet gently and pulled the older man's face up so that he could kiss Dean, lips slotting together heatedly as he groaned and bucked up one last time.


End file.
